Alcohol + Spike = The Drink Series.
by Lil Miss Giggles
Summary: This is a new series. It started with "Tequila, It Makes Me Happy" but I have since decided that a drunk Spike is a funny one so you'll be seeing alot more alcohol in the future ;)
1. Tequila It Makes Me Happy

Tequila, it makes me happy.  
  
I'd write a disclaimer but you know what I'm gonna say so I'm not.  
  
  
"99 bottlesh of beer on der wall,  
99 bottlesh of beer!  
Take one down, an' pash it aroun'  
Ummm…..49 bottlesh of beer on der wall."  
  
A * very * drunk Spike wandered the streets of Sunnydale,  
  
"49 bottlesh of beer on der wall,  
49 bottlesh of beer!  
Take one down … an' Shpike drinksh it all,  
42 bottlesh of beer on der wall."  
  
He looked at the empty bottle of Tequila in his hand, and sitting on someone's garden wall, began to talk to the parked car in front of him,  
"Y'kno' wha'? Thish bottlesh empty. Got any mo'?  
To Spike's disappointment, the car didn't answer. He took that as a "no".  
"Oh. Well. I'll jusht avta go find shum mo' won't I?"  
he got up and staggered towards the graveyard, in search of more alcohol.  
After stealing a 3-quarter full bottle of vodka from a sleeping vamp, Spike sat in a tree, sipping the dregs delicately,  
"Wudn' wanna washte it now wud I?" He said to himself. He took one last swig as Buffy and Willow strolled past, on Buffy's nightly patrol. Spike leant forward to see them better, and consequently fell out of the tree. The two Sunnydale lasses turned to see a * very * drunk Spike lying on his back like a beetle, grinning happily at them,  
"Caw! Lookit dat! Two shtunning girlsh! Musht be my lucky day!"  
The Slayer couldn't help but smile at him as he rolled around the floor, trying ti get up.  
"Oh Spike. How much have you had to drink?"  
The legless vampire held the now empty bottle of vodka upside down,  
"Couldn'ta drunk nuthin'. Shee? Der bottlesh empty. No drink for Shpike to drink. Not drunk nuthin'."  
Spike wriggled on the floor,  
"Can't sheem to get up. Help Shlayer!"  
Buffy and Willow giggled and helped him to his feet, and as they lead him to Giles' house, he began to sing. Incredibly out of tune.  
"Nobody likesh me,  
Evr'body hatesh me,  
I tink I'll go ea' wormsh.  
Long, thin shkinny onesh,  
Bi' fa' jooshy onesh.  
Wotchem wiggle an' shquirm!"  
The Slayer and her Wiccan friend were laughing so hard, they could barely hold him up, and he began to sing louder,  
"Bite orf dere headsh an' shuck dere josh!  
An' tro dere shkinsh awaaaaaay!  
No body knowsh 'ow I shurvive onna hunded wormsh a daaaay!"  
"Spike! Please! No more!" Buffy pleaded whilst laughing hysterically,  
"Washa matta? Don't like my shingin'? Sh'alri' Shlayer, Shpike shtop shingin'."  
They got him into Giles' house and tied him to chair so he couldn't hurt himself, but he didn't seem to notice,  
"Y'kno wha' Shlayer? I love you. An' y'kno wha' Willsh? You're my beshtesht friend in the whoooooooole world!"  
Willow hid all the alcoholic drinks Giles possessed, she wasn't taking any chances.  
"Shlayer?"  
"Yesh Spike?" Buffy giggled, imitating Spike's drunken speech.  
"I love you."  
"You've told me."  
Spike grinned at her,  
"I love you lotsh an' lotsh an' lotsh an' - "  
"Spike emough! I get the point!"  
He began to rock in his chair,  
"Shee shaw, shee shaw, shee sh - "  
The chair fell over, and Spike was left squirming on the carpet, "Ooopsh."  
With the help of Willow, Buffy sat him upright again, and went home, leaving the drunk vampire in the care of her watcher.  
  
  
The next morning they returned to see Spike with a face like thunder.  
"Washa matta Shpike?" Willow teased.  
"The pillock won't give me an aspirin….here, what's wrong with your voice?"  
Both girls grinned at each other and Buffy sat on the sofa,  
"Don't you remember?"  
"Listen Slayer, I'm not in the mood for games."  
"Don't you mean Shlayer?!"  
Spike went a deep red as the memories of the previous night flooded his head.  
"Oh bugger, please tell me I didn't!"  
Willow tried not to laugh as she quoted him,  
"Y'kno wha' Shlayer? I love you * giggle * I love you lotsh an' lotsh an' lotsh."  
Then it was Buffy's turn,  
"Y'kno wha' Willsh? You're my beshtesht frien' in der whooole world!"  
"Okay, pack it in now."  
Spike's face was turning an even brighter red as he saw Giles standing in the doorway in hysterics.  
"Stop laughing. Now. I have a sodding hangover!"  
"Want an aspirin?" Giles smiled.  
"Yes, please!" said Spike, trying not to sound desperate. He downed the painkillers quickly and grumbled,  
"I am * never * touching alcohol again!"  
Giles poured himself a brandy,  
"Want one?"  
"Oh, yes please!"  
It wasn't until the Ripper handed him the glass, that Spike realised what he'd said. He shrugged nonchalantly,  
"Force of habit," and gulped it down, "any more?"  



	2. Woah, deja-vu!

A/N: usual disclaimers apply - oh and B/T/W, in this fic, Dru is almost sane due to some therapy Spike has been sending her to. It is Part 2 in the "Drunken Spike" series.  
  
Drusilla was sat by the fire as always, only this time she wasn't giving her doll, Miss.Edith a full makeover. Well, not quite. since spike had sent her to what could only be called a "shrink for demons", she could almost pass for sane. She sat there, dismembering the doll and carelessly throwing the limbs into the fire as they were removed. She glanced up as she heard Spike outside. Singing.  
She reverted her eyes back to the doll as he stumbled through the door. Still singing,  
"You'sh wonsh, twicsh, three timesh a ladaaaaay."  
It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd sung the rest of the song, but nooo, he was singing the same line over and over again. Dru rolled her eyes,  
"Spike, Pet, are you drunk again?"  
"Tha' dependsh on if you'sh da coppers or no'. Cosh if you'sh a copper I'm perfe'ly shober."  
"I'm not a police man, Spike."  
"Den I'm comple'ely trolleyed!"  
She watched with a motherly disapproval as he staggered towards her and sat beside the fire, a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. It was empty except for the piece of rolled up paper that had been shoved through the bottle-neck. She indicated the paper,  
"What's that, Pet?"  
He blinked and looked at the bottle, then at her, putting a finger to his lips,  
"Shhhhh....it'sh a shecre'.[hic] You'sh not sh'poshed to know!"   
He looked at her very matter-of-factly and sighed,   
"Didncha know you'sh no' sh'poshed ta know 'bou' the shecre' meshage in der bottle? [hic]."  
Removing the bottle from his hand, Drusilla took out the paper and read it....well, *attempted* to read it. It was just a scribble he'd made with a blue biro. He looked at it over her shoulder,  
"Like i'? It'sh a pikcha of you'sh an' how bootiful I think you'sh ish."   
He lazily draped and arm over her shoulder,  
"'Ere, fanshy a sha'?[hic]"  
The thoungt of jumping into bed with a drunk vampire who smelt totally of Jack Daniels and un-seasoned tequila was not Dru's idea of a good time. She tried to decline from his offer politey.  
"No thankyou, Spike. You need your rest, go to bed."  
At once the legless demon was on his feet and approaching the door,  
"I knew i'! No' even me ma lovesh me! She'sh throwin' me ou'! [hic] Nevermin' I ca' fin' my own frien'sh. I'll go [hic] to Gilesh. He *alwaysh* knowsh wha' to do!"  
  
Giles was tired, he needed a hot bath and his bed. A full night's patrol was too much. Buffy had had the night off and he was covering for her. Patrol over for one night. Dressed in his favourite dressing gown, he made his way to the bathroom and hearly fainted at the sight that met his eyes. Buffy. Buffy and .....Spike.  
"Spike! Quit squirming!"  
"Bu' i' ticklesh!"  
The blonde vampire was in the bath, fully clothed and completely pissed. Completely. Buffy was not impressed and was in the process of trying to sober him up with the burst of freezing water that shot from the shower-head.  
"Oh you are in so much trouble when you sober up!"  
"Twouble?" He burst into song - for the fifteenth time in an hour,  
"Uh-oh, we'sh in twouble, shomeone'sh cum alon' and busht our bubble!"  
Giles was completely baffled,  
"What are you two doing in *my* bathroom? Infact why are you in my *house*?"  
Buffy left the drunken vampire for a moment and explained how she had found Spike in the graveyard singing, "It's a Hard Knock Life" over and over again with a bottle of Bacardi in his hand and a small Bacardi Breezer in his pocket. Both of which she'd confiscated. The Ripper looked apprehensively over her shoulder and tried not to laugh a he saw Spike holding a very civilised conversation with his bottle of shampoo. And the shower-head, which was now dowsing hs face with water as he tried to talk to it. They both turned to face him just in time to see him refrain from talking to inanimate objects and begin to talk to himself,  
"Why'sh the wallsh all wet an' shoggy? [hic] I'sh knowsh. I'sh goesh an' ashksh Gilesh, he *alwaysh* knowsh wha' to do. [hic hic hic]"   
Pulling the plug in the bath, Buffy and Giles locked the vampire in the room on his own to dry off. They came back a few hours later and knocked on the door. Giles peered anxiously through the keyhole,  
"Spike? Are you dry yet?"  
"Yesh. Me'sh dry ash a bone."  
The Watcher looked at his slayer,  
"but he's still as drunk as ever."  
Then Buffy looked guilty,  
"Oops....I left his confiscated alcohol in there with him. Big oops."  
  
Both humans stood in the kitchen watching the vampire as he wriggled with glee whilst watching the telly. They'd tied him to a chair so he couldn't do anything stupid but he was still drunk. Buffy rolled her eyes,  
"If I remember correctly, last time this happened we were at your house and he was tied to that same chair.....woah deja-vu!"  
They glanced back to Spike.  
"Ooh! Lookit dat! dere'sh people in der telly! An' dey'sh movin' abou' like....like...like people!"  
Giles sighed,  
"And again I believe the best solution to this is to leave him here. He'll be sober enough in the morning."  
  
  
Spike woke up - keeping his eyes closed. He could feel little demons in his head with hammers, and they weren't playing croquet.  
"Oh bugger."  
"Good morning, Spike"  
He recognised the voice instantly. Giles.  
"No it is *not* a good morning, and why am I in your house tied to a chair?!"  
"So..you don't remember?"  
"Would I be asking if I did?"  
"You got drunk....again."  
"Woah, deja-vu!"  
"They were Buffy's exact words, in fact."  
"The Slayer? What's she got to do with it?"  
He kept his eyes firmly closed, knowing that if he opened them, the demons in his head would not only be playing with their hammers, but clog-dancing too.  
"So you don't remember the bath?And your conversation with my shampoo and the shower-head?"  
"No."  
"Hey guys!"  
At the sound of Buffy's voice, the vampire dared to open his eyes - and the demons began their clog-dance.  
"Fuck! My head!"  
He looked around, he was tied to a chair but it had fallen and he was now lying on his back, still attached to the chair. He looked up at the Slayer,  
"Oh bugger. Not again!"  
Giles smurked,  
"Y'know I could really do with a brandy, anyone else?"  
The words "deja-vu" echoed throughout Spike's head but he ignored it. Alcohol good - hangover bad.  
"Yes please, mate.....bugger." 


	3. I'm not as think as you drunk I am

I'm not as think as you drunk I am.  
  
A/N:- I own none of these characters etc.  
indicates Giles.  
" " Is just the person on this end of the phone (Buffy's phone.)  
** ** indicates Spike in the background of Buffy's house.  
~* *~ Indicates Buffy in the background of her house.  
  
  
The phone rang,  
"'Ello?"  
Buffy?  
"No, sh'not der Shlayer."  
Giles raised an eyebrow at the sound of the voice at the other end. He recognised it, but he couldn't put a finger on exactly who it was,  
Who is it?  
"You'sh gotter gessh. I'sh no' tellin' yer."  
Spike? Is that you?  
"Aww, yer shpoilt my shurprish. It wazzashecret. Norty Rippa."  
What are you doing at Buffy's house? Does she know you're there?  
"Der Shlayer? Ohhh yesh, she knowsh I's here. Bu' she dunt know I's on der tellyphone. An' dun' tell 'er. It'sh a shecret, y'hear?"  
Um... I see. Spike?  
"Yesh?"  
Is you..er..*are* you drunk?  
He heard a strange sound at Spike's end. If he hadn't know Spike any better, he'd have said it was the giggle of a drunken vampire. But the blonde demon didn't giggle.  
"I's no' ash think ash you drun' I am."  
Yes...quite...Ah, can I speak to Buffy, please?  
The Watcher tried not to laugh as he heard the Slayer's irritated voice in the background. It was slightly muffled but he could still hear what she was saying.  
**Spike, what're you doing?**  
"Nuttin'. It'sha shurprish. Wai' an' shee!"  
Spike, let me talk to her please.  
He heard the fumbling as the phone was reluctantly handed over to Buffy who covered the mouth piece while she chided the drunken vampire for being a 'Dumbass' as she put it.  
"Giles?"  
Buffy, you said you needed to talk to me.  
"Yeah, I do - Spike!...get out of my drawers!"  
**Aww - shpoilshport.**  
"Sorry, Giles. He's drunk again and I didn't think it was fair to hand him over to you. He's acting so wierd."  
**I likesh your drawersh. You gotter luverly arsh, you do, Shlayer.**  
Giles heard Buffy cover the mouth piece again, and tried to stifle a laugh when he could still hear them.  
"You've never seen my butt!"  
**Yesh I 'av. Itsh der tight pantsh. Luverly view of your arsh.**  
"Oh shut up, dumbass." The phone was uncovered and Giles could practically sense Buffy's blush deepen as the vampire continued his praises of her backside. He tried to ignore it.  
So what was it you wanted to tell me?  
"It's about ... he's gone."  
Who?  
"Spike. He's gone somewhere. At least he's still in the house. I wanted to tell you about patrol last night."  
Oh?  
"I know why the chicken crossed the road."  
Really, Buffy, this is no time for jokes, I--  
"To take a bite out of the Slayer."  
Uh, Pardon?  
"This giant chicken, about 2ft high. It chased after me with glowing eyes and tried to bite a chunk out of my leg--"  
**She'sh lyin'! It wash her arsh, no' her thigh!**  
Both Buffy and Giles heard Spike calling from her bedroom.  
"Spike! What the hell are you doing in my room?!"  
This time she didn't bother to cover up the phone.  
**Admirin' shtuff.**  
"Well whatever you're doing, stop it *now*!"  
**Awww, you'sh a meanie.**  
Buffy returned her attention back to her Watcher,  
"See what I mean? Anyway, I was wondering if you knew what this thing was. It had real big teeth and big eyes. Red eyes."  
It sounds an awful lot like a basilisk...if you come across it again--  
**You'sh a nashty pashty!**  
"Ignore him. He's been like this all night."  
Um, yes...well, if you happen to come across it again, don't look it in the eye. Try to decapitate it without looking in its eyes, if you do you'll b--  
**I knowsh alla your darkesht shecretsh, Shlayer!**  
"What are you going on about now? - sorry about this, Giles."  
**I's readin' your diary an' it'sh veeery innereshtin'**  
Buffy's voice rang out with false cheer as she asked him to hold on a second,  
"Can you just hold that thought? Freeze frame. I'll be *right* back."  
There was a clunk as the phone was slammed onto the table and Buffy's feet could be heard thudding across the floor.  
~* Spike!*~  
**Wha'?**  
~* Put those *down* right now!!*~  
**No. I likesh 'em.**  
~* They really don't suit you...and *neither* does *that*! Take them off now!!*~  
**Why? I tink i' looksh good on me.**  
She lowered her voice slightly,  
~* Spike, men don't wears bras.*~  
Giles bit his lip, tryed to wash the imagery out of his head and attempted to stifle at the same time. It wasn't working. He'd never be able to look either of them in the eye again. Ever.  
**I'sh no' a man. I'sh a vampiya. I wearsh a bra if i wantshta. Sho der.**  
~* Spike...those panties aren't mine. Where'd you get them?......they're my *mom's*!! Take them *off* your head!! *~  
**If'n I takesh der knickersh off my 'ed, can I keep der bra?**  
~* NO!*~  
There was a whimper from Spike as she evidently confiscated the bra and knickers and more thudding as she returned to the phone.  
"If you heard any of that please tell me so I can shoot myself."  
........no. Didn't hear a word......any way, don't look in the basilisk's eyes because it will turn you to stone. Even if it didn't intend to. After you have its head, put it in a box, fill it with concrete and then bury it. Even after death, the creature's head can do serious harm...are you listening?  
"Hanging on every word."  
Uh...yes. Was that all?  
"Um...can I stay at yours tonight? Spike is beginning to scare me."  
Oh, yes. Of course.  
**Ish you leavin' me, Shlayer?**  
"Yesh, I am! - Thanks Giles."  
Don't mention it.  
  
  
Buffy prodded the sleeping vampire,  
"Wake up, dumbass."  
"Sod off, bitch."  
He slowly sat up and looked around him. He was in the Slayer's bed. Wearing a black padded bra on his head and a pair of knickers on each foot. Buffy stood back and folded her arms, feeling rather triumphant as Spike began to blush a dark red and looked at her imporingly as he saw the variety of underwear scattered across the room.  
"Please tell me I didn't do this."  
"Oh no, you definately did it. You also tried to get away with wearing my mother's panties on your head."  
He rubbed his eyes and his voice softened,  
"Buffy, Pet, be a love and get me an aspirin?"  
"No."  
"Please?"  
"Not until you've tidied all this up."  
"Only if you promise never to tell me what I did last night."  
"What, you mean like telling me I had a lovely ass? And saying you had a great view of it 'cause of my tight pants?"  
"Oh bugger, I didn't."  
"Oh no, you did. Ask Giles."  
"What's he got to do with this?...oh. The phone." 


End file.
